Is This Some Form of Harassment?
by LookAtAlllTheLeavesInTheFire
Summary: Beca is once again, on the edge. (I don't mean figurativley) Here we go again.


**A/N: In all honesty all I did was see a document last updated at 4:42am, read through it and throw it up here. I'm tired and not fully aware of whats going on but whatever.**

Finally Friday. No classes until Monday. Two whole days that nobody will miss her. Okay, well maybe Kimmy Jin will see but she's not gonna assume much. Her not caring and all.

Beca started on her way out. No warning needed. Simple. Get it done, never come back. No more suffering or faking. Pure endings. This really isn't gonna be all that 'pure' but she'll take it. An end is an end.

"Where are you going?" Kimmy Jin asked with her flat tone.

"Out."

"Where out?"

"Just out."

"How long are you gonna be gone?"

Beca paused and closed the door a few inches. "Can I just go?"

"How long are you gonna be gone?" She repeated, now looking up from her laptop.

"Ugh." She groaned. "I am going out. Probably to a park. Right now. On foot." Beca tried to cover all the 'who, what, where, when, how' just not the 'why.'

The had a long staring contest. Those weren't as uncommon as one might hope. And without a doubt, Kimmy Jin always won. She probably had years of practice.

"You're free." She finally said.

Beca swiftly went out the door, closing it quietly behind her and snuck through the hallways and down the stairs. The rain seemed to have just started since the pavement was still somewhat dry in some places.

She walked south. There was a pretty satanic river about half a mile from campus. The thing had currents like you wouldn't believe.

* * *

She got to the painted green steel bridge, leaning against the fenced railing. She changed her iPod from Imagine Dragons' '_Demons' _to Paramore's '_Last Hope_' Beca sighed and watched a few bugs flutter around a streetlamp.

"_It's just a spark,  
but it's enough to keep me going.  
And when it's dark out,  
__no one's around  
__it keeps glowing.  
__Every night I try my best to dream,  
__tomorrow makes it better  
__Then I wake up to the cold reality,  
__and not a thing has changed."_

Whoever said to listen to the same kind of music as you're feeling just said bullshit. It just made her feel worse and more alone. More vulnerable and so much more scared. There was nobody to turn to, and nobody to talk with, and nobody that will make her feel better. All that was left after giving up everything for everyone every single fucking day was:

Nothing.

She thought a bit longer. Paced around. Beca even kicked a pole. Still nothing.

Upon realizing this she looked around for anyone watching her and then pulled herself over the rails standing on a two inch space of concrete, her fingers tight on the fence behind her.

"You've been out for three hours." A familiar voice told her, making her stand up straighter in fright of the surprise visit.

"You can't stop me."

"Oh. Okay. Sure thing, kiddo." She put her elbows on the railing to the right of Beca. "So, what's playing?"

Beca looked over. "What?"

"That was me asking you for the left earbud 'cause I wanna listen too. Come on, do I need to spell it out for you?" Without saying anything, Beca handed over her left one. "Hm, didn't think you were a Florence kinda girl,"

"Yeah... Well you don't know a lot of things about me."

She chuckled a bit. "Honey, I have spent all school year living with you. I think I've figured at least a few things out." They didn't say anything for a long time."This isn't a park."

"I said 'probably.'" Beca reminded. She heard Kimmy Jin mumble 'Fair enough' under her breath. "How'd you know?"

"Eh," She shrugged. "You went right instead of left. There is nothing besides this chunk of metal," She slapped her palm against the railing. "For another three and a half miles."

"No, I mean how did you know how fucked up I was?" Kimmy Jin simply said 'staring contests.' That caught Beca's attention. "Staring contests? You guessed I was suicidal through _staring contests? _Psychology doesn't teach you how to read people... Does it?"

"No," Kimmy Jin shrugged. "I mean, you slept in a lot, you laughed a lot, you don't have a functional pencil sharpener, and I'm pretty sure I've heard you crying a few times."

"Jesus woman. Is that some form of harassment?" She didn't get a reply. "So what were you trying to accomplish here?" After another thirty seconds she figured out that she probably wasn't going to get an answer so they just stood there in silence listening to the music.

Twenty minutes later, Beca's ankles started to itch. That happened sometimes if she stood around too long. Her grip on the rails behind her had gradually loosened over time as she trusted her balance more and more. Beca just wanted to sit down. Rest. Maybe even for longer than just a few hours.

The more she thought about it the more she wanted it to stop. But not in this way. Death by a river (Or the Devil's Piss, as the locals called it.) was no glorious way of going out. But then again, how could suicide be a glorious way of going out anyway?

_Think of something to live for. Think of something thats great. _Repeated in her mind but nothing more than '_music' _passed through her thoughts. _A song. Think of a song. Anything. Please. Don't lose yourself now. Not yet, not yet. Please not yet._

"Need me to help you back over?" Kimmy jin suddenly asked out of nowhere. "Its almost two in the morning. I'm tired. You're tired. Let's get a drink and go to sleep."

Beca looked over to her. How weird was it that of all people Kimmy Jin would be the one to come save her? Not Jesse, not Chloe. Even Aubrey would be less surprising. "I guess so,"

A faded smirk flashed across her roommates face before she pulled Beca over by her wrists.

"Damn, you're a skinny little thing aren't you?"

It was nice. The whole thing. Maybe she'll put more effort into pulling herself together. Every day could be getting better. Find her own spark. A real spark she can hold with her hands. Something that had value enough that she could feel it with her heart. Something so cheesey she won't ever believe it. No matter how bright this sentimental metaphorical spark might shine, it has to mean enough for her to see it through the clouded thoughts that always screamed '_death to Beca Mitchell! Death to Beca Mitchell!' _It has to be bright enough so see though the sound of fear and worthlessness. Something. Anything.

'_Breathe for love tomorrow,  
'cause there's no hope for today.  
Breathe for love tomorrow,  
'cause maybe there's another way,'_


End file.
